


A phone call from the dead.

by Jolly_Rancherz



Series: Mindset of bad dads. [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jolly_Rancherz/pseuds/Jolly_Rancherz
Summary: Terry is dying from COVID 19. He can feel his body failing him. He needs to reach Mickey.
Relationships: Mickey Milkovich & Terry Milkovich
Series: Mindset of bad dads. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022809
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	A phone call from the dead.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Death and sickness.

I was a goner. 

I could barely breathe. 

I kept coughing and coughing and coughing. 

Even more coughing. It felt endless. 

It felt like my lungs had given up on me. 

Coughing out in the most painful manner that made my entire chest hurt and my lungs burn. 

My eyes stung with tears and I could feel myself try to breathe in desperate gulps of air. 

It was commbated painfully as coughs forced their way outta me. 

Milkoviches weren't pussies. 

But I was fucking terrified. 

Clutching desperately at my chest in pain, I tried to make it stop. 

Oh please, please fucking make it stop. Anyone. 

My breaths were barely enough to pull in enough oxygen. 

I felt like I was suffocating. 

Letting my hand reach out, it knocked over everything on the side table by my bed but I couldn't hear the resounding crash. 

Trying to feel for my phone, I felt tears begin to stream down my face. 

Fear and pain. 

My hand finally grasped my phone and I yanked it towards me quickly. 

Mickey. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey was the only one left. I couldn't see his damn contact. All my other children long gone. 

Mick. There he was. 

Desperately hitting dial. I prayed. My vision was blurred and I couldn't stop the coughs for even a second. 

Coughing out in the most excruciating pain I had ever physically felt. Then trying to breathe in desperately. 

I couldn't hear the sound of the phone ringing but it felt like it was going on for ages. 

“Pl-please.” I begged. 

Then finally. 

“Terry? The fuck are you calling for, its three in the goddamn morning! You better leave Mickey the fuck alone-” Little gay carrot boy. 

Who my son loved. 

I felt more painful coughs work their way out, forcing them to stop for just a moment despite the increasing pain it caused. I breathed out my words in a rush. 

“Take...Fuck, take good care of him.” 

I heard a confused ‘what’ and then shifting and carrot boys desperate pleas to wake up Mick. 

I heard a confused sleepy groan. 

“Please...tell Mickey I love him.” 

I couldn't breathe. My vision went black.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This isn’t meant to redeem Terry in anyway.
> 
> Feedback is deeply appreciated should you feel inclined.


End file.
